I have a question. The sort of thing which gets around on post cards and calendars as beautiful - the official, sanctified beauty, if you will - is all very well, but it basically bores me. You know what I'm talking about, pictures of waterfalls and moss-covered stones, or kittens and doe-eyed puppy dogs. However, although I like natural scenery as much as the next person, there is a sight which I consider beautiful in the extreme, and which never fails to rivet me to the spot. It's also something which is lacking utterly in popular appeal, and totally, comprehensively absent from the ranks of slickly produced new age calendars. I'm talking about construction sites. Now, don't ask me why I prefer construction sites and dark damp alleyways to river-front views and green lawn. I don't know. Suffice to say that I have more vivid memories of the dust and chaos of a destroyed building than I do of the family trip to New Zealand, hired aircraft trip over the mountains and all. The rotting and abandoned places of the world seem to hold me in a kind of fascination. I mentioned this to a friend and he thought I was nuts. I'm just wondering what it means to say that something is beautiful when people can obviously have such conflicting perceptions. I'm also wondering if anybody else enjoys the same inverted aesthetic as I do, and if so how they see themselves compared to the "post-card purchasing" norm. * * No offense intended to the post-card purchasing norm - you are welcome to your perceptions and in no way do I consider anyone less of a human being because they go with the flow.